


To Each Their Own

by sasha_b



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lazy night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Each Their Own

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing a lot lately and have been inspired pretty well so I thought I'd run with it when it came. Writing my own stuff has really been awesome as well as visiting KA-land again, so happy happy to me. :P Feedback is love!!

  
Lancelot stretches languidly, the heat of the bed and of the still burning brazier enough to bake him for days. His back aches and the new bruises that are forming are pinching and painful but he presses on one that he finds on his inner left thigh, a tiny bit of tingling desire wavering from his hand to his cock forcing another wonderful stretch from him.

Arthur lays on his back beside Lancelot, the commander's flesh quiet although half awake still. Lancelot takes note of that and smiles slowly, his spine popping as he rises to his knees and then collapses at Arthur's side, head resting on the other man's thigh, breathing warm breaths against Arthur's skin.

The commander raises his arm from his eyes and looks down his body at Lancelot, whose face is shadowed partly by the curtains that ring Arthur's large bed, the furs that normally hold him in sleep shoved to the floor in haste. His answering tiny smile ripples through Lancelot's bones and blood, that spark of rekindled desire he'd felt blossoming into something bigger, tinder and flame, ready to burst apart at a touch or a word.

Lancelot's left hand strokes slowly at Arthur's hip, the jutting bone strong and thick and Arthur's eyes shutter and close, his arm covering his eyes again.

The window Lancelot had left open lets in a small breeze, welcome despite the winter chill outside, and Lancelot slips up Arthur's body, laying his smaller, deceptively thin frame over the large one he's used to being heated by. Arthur does not remove his arm from his face, but his muscles tense in anticipation of something he can't let go of, no matter how dangerous or bad for them _both_ it is.

Raking a hand through his hair, the sweat in his scalp slicking it back from his forehead, Lancelot slides his arms under Arthur's shoulders and drops his head, touching the other man's lips with his own, briefly, a brush lighter than wings - fucking angel's wings, he's sure Arthur would imagine, not so Lancelot - and he speaks onto the flesh he's as in love with as the man that occupies it.

_I own you._

He kisses Arthur, slanting his head, sucking the other man's bottom lip into his mouth, wet and hot and demanding and yet he raises one hand and clamps Arthur's arm back over the other man's eyes, not allowing him to move or answer. The breeze catches Lancelot's hair and dries some of the sweat on his back and he can feel Arthur's cock rise against his own and he rolls his hips, delicious arch that forces a small moan from his mouth. He feeds it to Arthur, who answers with his own, ending with Lancelot's name. _Lancelot_ , a curse as much as an endearment, and the knight shoves his tongue inside, past Arthur's lips and he kisses the other man for what seems like days, only stopping to breathe every now and then, his hips rolling achingly slow and one knee slipping between Arthur's.

Arthur struggles to move his arm but Lancelot won't let him.

Finally - Lancelot isn't a magician, despite wanting to be - he breaks away from Arthur, lowering his hand from Arthur's wrist, and the Roman drops his arm immediately away from his eyes, green smashing into brown, sparking with the power that only grows between the two of them. Power that none can match, and that none can posses save them.

Arthur's hands grasp at Lancelot's hips and the knight sighs as he rises up over Arthur, the other man's flesh sweetly taking his, the tightness and heat that always accompanies the familiar burn of Arthur's cock making Lancelot shudder and groan, this time Arthur's name on his lips.

When they're finished and lying across one another again, Arthur lifts his head and watches Lancelot breathe, his hand slowly covering the place where Lancelot's heart beats, the thud thump strong and steady and Arthur shakes his head, his jaw bruised and his lips swollen and his body so tired he's not sure he can ever stand again.

_You do._

The teasing smile that grows into a real one is full and warm and Lancelot imprints the shape of it onto Arthur's mouth again and again and again.


End file.
